


In your dreams

by platonic_boner



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Merlin Memory Month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonic_boner/pseuds/platonic_boner
Summary: Arthur is cursed into an unnatural sleep. Merlin helps him wake up, but not before they stumble their way through someveryinteresting dreams.





	In your dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Merlin Memory Month.
> 
> Thanks to [ironic_boner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironic_boner/pseuds/ironic_boner) for idea-having and (as always) for betaing.

There’s a warlock, and a curse, and Arthur slumping onto the floor.

*

Merlin makes quick work of the warlock. By the time he’s done, most of the court is staring at him: magic might be legal now, but that doesn’t mean seeing it thrown around in Arthur’s castle isn’t shocking. Merlin ignores them and drops to his knees next to his king. 

Gaius and a few knights are already at Arthur’s side. Percival shifts to make room for Merlin.

“He’s still breathing,” Gaius says.

Merlin picks up Arthur’s hand, laying his fingers on Arthur’s wrist so he can feel Arthur’s pulse for himself. Reassuringly, Arthur’s heartbeat is strong and steady, even though his eyes are shut and he’s not responding to them. He appears to just be sleeping.

Percival gives Merlin an uncertain glance, and Merlin realizes he’s still holding Arthur’s hand. He hastily lays it down. He doesn’t want Arthur’s knights figuring out he’s in love with Arthur; they’re _terrible_ at keeping secrets, and the last thing Merlin needs is them spreading it to Arthur.

“Why won’t he wake?” Leon asks.

“It isn’t a natural sleep,” Gaius says.

“What now?” Percival asks, and then everyone looks at Merlin.

Oh, right. Merlin’s the court sorcerer. This is his job.

Merlin drags his eyes away from Arthur’s still body, and takes a deep breath.

“Take him to his rooms,” he says. “Search the rooms, and post guards on the door in case the warlock had any co-conspirators. Gaius and I will figure out how to wake him up.”

Leon nods. “I’ll see to it,” he says. “And Percival, round up a couple dozen men to try to put the room back in order.”

Merlin glances around and winces. Okay, so he might have made a _little_ bit of a mess while dealing with the warlock. Oops.

*

By the next morning, Merlin’s identified the spell, and they’ve figured out a way to wake Arthur. He explains it to Leon, as they stand beside their sleeping king.

“He doesn’t look to be in any pain,” Leon says, hopefully.

It’s true. Arthur’s sleeping peacefully; smiling, in fact. It’s not a good sign, though.

“The curse traps him in his sleep,” Merlin says. “That’s easiest if he _wants_ to stay asleep, so he’ll have good dreams.”

“So he’s not going to wake up.”

“He needs to find his way out of his dreams, but he doesn’t have to do it alone,” Merlin says. “I’ll magically enter his dreams, and help guide him out. Gaius made me a potion so that I’ll stay alert within the dream, and know I’m dreaming.”

Leon nods. “We’ll guard the two of you until he wakes up.”

“Thanks,” Merlin says, and flops onto Arthur’s bed. 

Leon’s eyebrows go up.

“I need to be asleep to enter his dreams,” Merlin explains, flushing. “And near him.”

“I understand.”

Merlin closes his eyes. There’s a long, awkward moment of quiet.

“I’ll wait outside,” Leon says.

“Sounds good,” Merlin agrees.

Falling asleep next to Arthur is more challenging than Merlin expected. He’s exhausted, having just spent all night working to find a way to wake Arthur up, but he’s also weirdly keyed up. The unfamiliar bed, and the knowledge that Arthur’s _right there_ , don’t help either. Merlin opens his eyes to check if maybe he’s drifted off without noticing it.

He hasn’t.

He sighs, closes his eyes, and keeps trying.

*  
Finally, Merlin opens his eyes to something other than Arthur’s dimly lit room and his slack-jawed face. Instead, he’s in a forest covered in rolling mist. Enormous trees tower all around him. Together with the mist, they block out most light, and muffle any sounds. There’s no end to the forest in sight, just huge trunks fading into mist and twilight in all directions.

Merlin takes a deep breath and focuses on why he’s here. For Arthur. To bring him out. For that, Merlin first needs to find him.

He closes his eyes, and just thinks about Arthur. The sound of Arthur’s laugh. The smooth, confident motion of him swinging a sword. His affectionate blue eyes, sparkling with a grin in response to Merlin’s insults. The way his crown fits perfectly on his blond head. The way he looks in bed before Merlin wakes him up, his cheeks flushed with warmth from his blankets, his arms spread in a way Merlin’s sure isn’t meant to be as inviting as it looks. The way he smells -

Merlin’s nose twitches. No, that last one isn’t just his imagination.

Someone flicks Merlin in the forehead. He opens his eyes.

“Daydreaming?” Arthur teases affectionately.

Arthur’s dream definitely isn’t much like reality, then, because nothing in the question suggests that Merlin should get back to work.

Merlin looks around. He and Arthur are standing in a field of a very well-cared-for farm. A few goats are milling around them; one gently butts Arthur in the leg, and Arthur laughs softly and pats her head a few times. 

Merlin takes the distraction as an opportunity to study Arthur. His clothing is comfortable and sturdy, but definitely that of a farmer rather than a king. He’s unarmed, his stance relaxed: he feels completely safe here. More than that, his grin as he pets the goat is a happy, carefree one Merlin hasn’t seen in ages, if ever. Arthur’s holding a shovel and has a bit of dirt on him, like he’s actually been doing farmwork - the type of work Arthur _never_ does.

A farm and just the two of them, a few goats, and a cat (currently winding its way around their cozy-looking farmhouse) - _this_ is Arthur’s dream? The dream that’s so good, the curse is using it to make Arthur want to stay asleep?

“Well?” Arthur asks. He offers Merlin the shovel. “It’s your turn to muck the stables, and standing there looking cute isn’t going to get you out of it.”

“Arthur, listen,” Merlin says. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

“Yes,” Arthur says. “Now, _that_ might get you out of it.”

“What?” Merlin says. “Wait, _what_?” 

No. Arthur’s not implying what it sounds like he’s implying, even if his voice just turned deep and husky, and his eyes are sparkling with a little amusement and a lot of … something else. Merlin shakes his head hard, dislodging the thought.

“Not … that,” he says. “Arthur, this is a dream. This is _all_ a dream. Try to remember.”

Arthur’s the one shaking his head now. “No! No, Merlin, this is real. It’s all real. You’re confused.”

Merlin bites his lip. “I’m sorry, but it’s not. You have a kingdom, remember?”

Arthur laughs. “I have some goats, a couple of horses, and an amazing sorcerer. You’re all the kingdom I need.”

For a moment, Merlin just blinks at him. _You’re all the kingdom I need._ It’s just about the most romantic thing Merlin’s ever heard. He looks around again, at the home Arthur’s made for them, and wonders.

Then he snaps out of it. He can wonder whether his feelings for Arthur maybe aren’t that unrequited after all _later_ , after Arthur’s safe. For now, Merlin has a job to do.

Merlin raises his hands and murmurs a spell. A large bubble of water, roughly the size of someone’s head, forms between his hands. He moves it up to eye level.

“I need you to watch this,” he says, pushing his memories of last night’s events into the bubble.

Arthur glances at the bubble - himself on the throne - and then looks away quickly. “No.”

Merlin doesn’t know what history Arthur has in this dream. Was he always a farmer, or did he (they?) run away from his life as a prince? As a king? Or maybe it’s just that part of him doesn’t want to remember, preferring to stay in this place with no responsibilities, no troubles, and no wars. Whatever it is, the sight of himself as king definitely upsets him.

Merlin still needs him to look.

“Do you trust me?” Merlin asks.

“Of _course_ ,” Arthur says, raising his eyes to Merlin’s at once. “But -”

“I need you to watch,” Merlin repeats. And, because dream-Arthur had smiled at Merlin like he was special, because he’d said Merlin was important, Merlin adds softly - a bit of guilt twisting in his gut - “For me, Arthur.”

Arthur hesitates. Then he sets his jaw, takes Merlin’s hand, and faces the bubble. He watches stoically, his hand tight around Merlin’s, as the events play out: the feast, interrupted by the warlock approaching, Merlin being just a few crucial seconds too late to stop him from laying a curse on Arthur, Arthur falling.

The moment when Arthur remembers is obvious. He shoves the bubble aside and, with wide eyes, hastily drops Merlin’s hand.

“Glad you’re back with me,” Merlin says, forcefully cheerful, hoping to avoid anything awkward Arthur might have to say about dream-Arthur. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Arthur says. “More than ready. How do we do that?”

“Do you remember the forest?” Merlin asks. “When you first fell asleep, probably, you fell into - ”

“Tall trees, misty, creepy?” Arthur says. “I remember.”

“Good,” Merlin says. “This is your dream; you have to take us there. Close your eyes, focus on that. Pretend we’re there. Hopefully, that’ll do it.”

“Hopefully?” Arthur grumbles, even as he closes his eyes as per Merlin’s instructions. “My court sorcerer is supposed to do a little better than _hopefully_.”

Merlin takes Arthur’s arm. He’s pretty confident he could find Arthur again, if he had to, but he’d rather Arthur just brought him along in the first place. 

“Unfortunately, sire, someone burned almost all the books on sorcery, so I’m making this up as I go,” Merlin says. “At least I got here, right?” 

“How long have you been _you_ , anyways? Real you, not dream you?” Arthur asks anxiously. “It’s recent, right?”

“I’ve only been here about ten minutes,” Merlin says. He wonders if a little ribbing is called for. “I wasn’t here last night, if that’s what you’re asking, sire.”

Arthur flushes. “It wasn’t, and what is that supposed to mean!”

Oops. Apparently the ribbing was out of line.

And, double oops, apparently it distracted Arthur from picturing the forest. Because they’re somewhere new, but it’s definitely not a forest.

*

They’re in Arthur’s bed, but not because they’ve woken up. Merlin knows this because, in the waking world, he and Arthur are both wearing clothes. Also, they’re next to each other, as opposed to Arthur lying on top of Merlin.

Arthur stares down at him. They both take a few moments to really take in their situation. Arthur looks down the length of their bodies, then turns bright red. 

“So you _were_ coming on to me, then,” Merlin murmurs, more to himself than to Arthur. 

That is information he will definitely put to use in the very near future, although right now he should probably prioritize getting them out of here.

That’s going to be a hard resolution to keep, though, considering what he’s (literally) up against.

“What’s going on? Are we awake?” Arthur asks.

“Yes,” Merlin says, sarcastically. “We both had to be naked for me to share your dreams, and then I thought I’d arrange us in a very compromising position, just for fun.” 

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Fine. Then what did happen?”

Merlin flushes. “You must’ve got distracted when thinking about the forest, and instead of going there, we ended up in a different one of your dreams.”

Arthur freezes, and then starts moving away from Merlin so hastily that he gets tangled up in the bedsheets. 

“Sorry,” he stammers, flailing. “I’m sorry. Merlin, I don’t - that is, it would be ridiculous of me to deny that I’m attracted to you, at this point, but I want you to know that I realize I’m in a position of power over you, and I’m not going to pressure you, and I hope this doesn’t influence our friendship - ”

“Position of power?” Merlin repeats incredulously. “Do you hear yourself? The only position of power you’re in is the position of having _all the damn blankets_.”

It’s true; Arthur’s succeeded at moving away from him and taken all the covers with him, and now Merlin’s blanket-deprived and shivering.

“I’m your _king_ ,” Arthur says, even as he manages to separate out one of the blankets and throw it at Merlin’s head.

Merlin wraps the blanket around himself. “I’m the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen,” he says. “You couldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

Arthur raises his eyebrows pointedly, with a broad gesture that encompasses the bed and the two of them. “No?”

“ _You_ didn’t do this, a curse did,” Merlin says. “And who says I wouldn’t want this?”

“Merlin, don’t mock me,” Arthur says, in a low voice. “Not about this, all right?”

“I’m not mocking you,” Merlin says, enthusiastically swinging himself over to Arthur’s side of the bed, on top of Arthur - a reverse of their positions from a few moments ago, although this time Arthur’s uncertain and not going along with it very well.

Until Merlin kisses him, and then he gets with the program.

“Mmm,” Merlin says, when Arthur sticks a hand into his blanket. “I think you’re supposed to court me and shower me in presents, first,” he teases, a bit breathlessly.

“What do you call the royal pardon?” Arthur asks, kissing down Merlin’s neck. “And your new hat?”

It makes Merlin remember. Magic. They’re here because of magic. _Bad_ magic.

It takes a lot of effort, but Merlin pulls away. “Arthur. We’re still stuck in your dream, remember? We need to get back to reality.”

“A few minutes isn’t going to make a difference,” Arthur says.

“First of all, this had better take longer than a few minutes,” Merlin says. “Second, time in dreams isn’t the same. It might be faster than reality, or slower. A lot slower.”

“What are you saying?”

“Our bodies could be wasting away while we’re in here,” Merlin says.

“Well, _that_ kills the mood,” Arthur says. He sighs, and pulls away from Merlin. “Fine. I’ll think about the stupid forest.”

*

“Thinking about me naked in a random forest doesn’t work either, Arthur!”

“Nice to look at, though.”

*

“Shit,” Merlin breathes, the levity of the situation (and of his dick) fading. 

They’re not in the forest. They’re on a battlefield. The ground is covered in red - blood, but also red cloaks: Camelot is losing.

Merlin turns around to see Arthur fighting off three attackers at once, with many more on the way. Fortunately, Arthur’s in armour with a sword. Merlin’s also regained his clothes, but they won’t do much to protect him against weapons.

He raises his hands and the men fighting Arthur go flying backwards. He throws away the ones who follow, and the ones after that. It’ll give them a few seconds to talk.

“What were you _thinking_ about?” Merlin demands.

“Fuck,” Arthur says. “I was thinking about the forest, but also - I was scared. I didn’t want us to die here. I didn’t want to leave Camelot to fall, and I didn’t want you to die.”

“All right,” Merlin says, wincing slightly. “You need to take us somewhere else.”

Arthur catches the wince. “Merlin, you die in this dream.”

“Got that,” Merlin says, nodding.

“What happens if you die here?”

“Let’s not find out,” Merlin says. He blasts back a few more soldiers. “I’ll keep us alive. You concentrate. Try to think positive thoughts. Just take us anywhere but here.”

Arthur nods. He closes his eyes. Merlin takes his wrist and fights for their lives.

*

Just before a spear takes him, the battlefield fades away before Merlin’s eyes.

They’re in the throne room in Camelot, but it’s Uther on the throne. Merlin’s off to one side with a few other servants. Arthur’s standing before the king, hanging his head as Uther harangues him.

“You’ve disappointed me, Arthur,” he says. “You’ve failed your mission, and let me down. You have let down the people of Camelot. You’ve shown that you will not be a strong or wise leader, but will bring to ruins the country I have worked so hard to build.”

Merlin makes a noise and starts to step forward, but Arthur frantically shakes his head at him. Merlin is about to interrupt anyways - what can Uther do? - but the moment’s pause makes him remember: Uther could order him executed. 

Merlin really _doesn’t_ know what will happen if he or Arthur dies. The curse was meant to keep Arthur asleep, and making him content was the best way to do that. He wasn’t meant to be in any dreams other than the one which made him happiest - which, apparently, was the one at the farm. So Merlin’s research hadn’t turned up what might happen if the dream went sour.

If he has to watch Arthur’s head bow and his shoulders slump like this for much longer, though, he’s going to risk it and tell Uther off anyways.

Fortunately, just before Merlin snaps, Uther sits back and dismisses Arthur. Arthur bows, trembling a little, and turns away. Merlin scrambles after him.

They walk in silence until they reach Arthur’s chambers, Arthur’s defeated posture hurting Merlin’s heart every step of the way.

“Why this dream?” Merlin finally asks.

“It seemed easiest. Since it usually comes next,” Arthur says, still looking at the floor.

Merlin absolutely hates the thought that Arthur has this sequence of dreams so often he knows what order they come in.

“Arthur,” Merlin says, taking Arthur’s hand. “You’re a wonderful leader. You’ve built Camelot into something amazing.”

“I’ve made mistakes,” Arthur says. He looks up. “I don’t always have these dreams, Merlin, just when I know I’ve screwed up, or think I’m going to.”

“Well, they’re bullshit,” Merlin says. “You know that, right?”

Arthur smiles. “Thank you.”

Merlin squeezes his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Arthur closes his eyes. 

*

They’re finally in the forest again, and Arthur looks around.

“Now what?” 

“We find our way out of the forest,” Merlin says.

Arthur looks at the trees and mist stretching out in every direction. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

Merlin grins. “I’m a sorcerer, remember?”

He extends a hand towards the ground and whispers a few words. A long golden path appears, burning away the mist as it lights their way.

“This is one of those rare occasions when you really are worth keeping around,” Arthur says, grinning.

Merlin smacks the back of his head. “Shut up and walk,” he orders. “And try not to think about anything. That shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

Arthur makes a face at him, but they’ve been through enough nightmares that he takes Merlin’s words to heart. He stares, focussed, on the path ahead of them as they makes their way through the forest.

*

Time moves strangely in the dream, so Merlin trudges after Arthur for what seems like forever, but may also be only a few minutes, before they start to see patches of light ahead. They’re nearing the end of the forest. Without a word, they pick up the pace.

Arthur halts at the forest’s edge, just inside the border drawn by the branches of the trees. “Now what?”

“Now you wake up,” Merlin says, and shoves Arthur out of the forest. To save himself from falling, Arthur takes a lunging step forwards -

\- and knees Merlin in the stomach, jerking them both out of their sleep.

“ _Ow_ ,” Merlin complains.

“Can’t have hurt that much,” Arthur retorts, because Merlin doesn’t even take a moment to nurse his developing bruise before rolling over on top of Arthur and grinning down at him.

Arthur grins back. “Hi,” he murmurs. “I’m definitely awake this time, right?”

“Definitely,” Merlin says. 

“So I can take my time with you now?” Arthur asks, flipping them over so he’s the one on top of Merlin, now.

Merlin’s about to wholeheartedly agree, when they’re interrupted by several loud bangs on the door.

“Sire!” Leon calls, from just outside the door. “Is everything all right?”

Arthur huffs exasperatedly and drops his forehead onto Merlin’s chest.

“If we ran away and farmed goats,” he murmurs into Merlin’s skin, as Leon pounds on the door, “Nobody would ever make us get out of bed.”

“True,” Merlin says. “But then who would establish peace and re-unite Albion?”

Arthur lifts his head to look down on Merlin. “Oh, that’s what you want from me, is it?”

“A bit ambitious, maybe, but I believe in us.”

Arthur smiles and gives Merlin a quick kiss. “So do I,” he says, and then jumps out of bed to go yank open the door and tell Leon to stop banging.


End file.
